Confessions
by wolfdancer333
Summary: When the truth comes out, can it truly set Kyoko free? Or will it break her more than Sho could have ever done? All it takes is one confession to change everything.
1. Confessions

How had it all come crashing down to this single moment in time was beyond her understanding. One moment, she's clearing the dishes from the table in Tsuruga-san's apartment after the dinner she had forced on him – camping outside his apartment door and ridiculing herself for showing up at all was how he found her – and rounding into the kitchen she knew like the back of her hand and then in the next moment, she found herself dropping the dishes to the floor at the words he had uttered from behind her. The bowls, the glasses, it all clattered to the floor, some of it shattering. She heard it from a distance, from far away, the words he had said ringing loudly in her eardrums. Or maybe that was her heart?

Golden eyes wide, she stared blankly at the wall of the kitchen across from her, one foot forward and the other lifted slightly to take the step to join it's brethren. She blinked in slow tandem, trying to process the words and deny them at the same time. There had to be a mistake, there had to be, there was no way Tsuruga-san – her senpai, the man she loved – had just told her…

 _"…...I'm Corn."_

The TV was playing on some comedy they had been watching while they ate and the muffled sound of laughter mocked her. Her heart gave a painful squeeze but she refused to turn around. A part of her had known it all along, ever since that day in Guam, and if she were being honest with herself, probably longer than that. She had known, shrugged it off, because if she acknowledged that the man she loved now was also her Fairy Prince, her best friend, then…...What could stop that ugly, destructive emotion from pouring out?

What excuse did she have now? How could he do this to her, make her unable to deny her feelings any more? Closing her eyes, she inhaled quietly, hear heart oddly silent as she tried to gather her thoughts. Besides the TV it was silent behind her indicating he wasn't approaching her.

She was grateful for that.

He was allowing her to make the choice for herself what she would do and though Kyoko would have liked to believe she could be angry for the lying – and that kiss she was avoiding processing as she _was_ angry – she _couldn't_ when he said it with that heartbroken, tired voice. Swallowing thickly, she opened her eyes, looking down at the shards of glass and the dishes scattered at her feet.

Shotaro had broken her heart in more ways than one, he had left her used and hateful. Tsuruga-san had picked up those pieces, her Fairy Prince still, and opened that box despite her struggle.

Now, she had a choice to make of her own and it would decide the fate of them both.

Bending down quietly, smoothing down the pleated skirt of her high school, she reached for the dishes that were intact and began piling them up to return them to the kitchen. The clinking of the dishes helped soothe her nerves as she focused on the emotions coursing through her. A hint of anger for the lies, confusion for the kiss in Guam and as to why he had told her the truth _right now_ , a numb acceptance of a truth she had kind of known but shoved away, and the most worrying of all was the sudden desire to turn around and fling herself at him.

She _wanted_ to touch him, to feel him, and her shaking hands as she began to pick up the shattered dish shards told her she was losing the fight. Why couldn't she hate him like she hated Shotaro and move on, move away from love, and be free of having her heart broken? What _had_ prompted him to suddenly tell her that? The shards tumbled into the bowl at the top of the stack as she glanced back at the hunched form of Tsuruga, Ren on his couch. His head was bent but even from her position she could see him clutching at his left wrist, where the broken watch sat, his long fingers dug in tight to the skin.

And just like that her emotions settled into a single coherent one that shook her to her core. She knew it, had felt it many times, and it spread warmly through her body. Her lips stretched and her cheeks flushed, golden orbs glowing, as she stood to her feet. Padding towards the couch in her bare socks, she stopped behind the hunched over man and her gaze fell to her feet, hands fidgeting in front of her.

Her Fairy Prince needed her. It was time to step up and if he was willing to tell the truth, then so was she!

Inhaling sharply, she unintentionally let it out in a sharp shout, "I'm Bo!"

The room grew colder and instinctively – though her hatred for Shotaro had lessened, her grudges hadn't dissipated – a hateful grudge popped out the top of her head, grinning at the presence of the coldness rolling off Tsuruga-san's back. Biting her lip and trembling, Kyoko's thoughts spiralled as she vaulted off into a train of fearful thoughts. Ohhhhh, she knew he would be angry! Why did I do that, why did I say that!?

Shivers shot down her spine and as she threw herself into bow after bow, shouting sorry over and over, until a muffled laugh made her hesitantly look up. Tsuruga-san was still shaking but he had leaned back, his head tilted over the back of the couch to look at her. The strands of what she was now realizing were a sparkling blonde beneath the darkness of a wig hung from his head.

He was smiling but those lensed eyes were turbulent with the emotions and memories she knew nothing about. His gaze was soft when he told her, amusement in his voice, "I told you right to your face and you still don't know."

She blinked, cocking her head to the side, gaze falling from his as her cheeks flushed. Confusion reared up as she tried to understand what he was talking about but her brain was stuck on the fact that Tsuruga-san was Corn. Golden eyes falling to his hair, she bit her lip, thinking of that sparkling golden blonde and she caught the moment when Tsuruga-san's entire face melted, softening as she realized she had probably zoned out into Fairyland staring at his hair. Before she had time to do anything, he lifted his hands and, sparing himself a moment of hesitation, pulled off Tsuruga, Ren's wig. Just like she remembered, those blonde strands glimmered bright from the light of the TV, dancing across her vision like golden silk.

Her heart was already lost and even as, internally, she screamed in horror and lack of propriety, her body ignored her and she stepped forward, lifting a hand to his hair to dance her fingers through some of the loose strands.

Ren allowed her, just simply watching her, and she mumbled unconsciously, "I have always liked your hair, Corn."

A noncommital hum from the fairy – for surely he could be nothing else even now – was all she received. The first touches are tentative, hesitant, as if by allowing her fingers to thread through the golden locks will dislodge her from reality. Perhaps this is a dream? Shocked golden pools drop slowly to look at the man staring up at her and her heart begins to race in her chest, thumping without abandon against her ribcage. Her stomach is light and filled to the brim with fluttering butterflies. Squeaking at the soft look in his eyes, she darts her gaze away but feels the heat flood her cheeks.

If the way her cheeks darken and her belly grows warm are any indication, he's noticed.

When no lies jump at her and the illusion isn't shattered, her fingers brush the smooth, silky strands firmly wanting to hold onto this small piece of her fairy tale. She watches the movements of her fingers, watches the way the golden strands of hair slide through her fingers and fall into the air with his head bent over the back of the leather couch. The TV is still on, flashing colours across the living room and the man with his arms on the couch, head bent back and at her mercy.

And, she realizes with suddenly widening eyes, he is.

He opened himself up to her, admitted the truth to her even knowing she could hate him, and what was she doing? Hands freezing in his hair, her body tenses as she loses herself in the hues of gold that glitter in his hair from the light of the flashing TV. Her heart skyrockets into her throat like a rabbit running from a lion. Here is her Fairy Prince – he would _always_ be her Fairy Prince – after all these years, sitting before her and at her mercy. She could turn around right now, walk out that door, and she _knows_ he would let her.

And she's scared! Oh God, the fear is a numb cold coil in her stomach. It is sharp claws digging into the tender flesh of her heart, urging her to run.

Her grudges are screaming at her. This is bad, this is bad, THIS IS BAD! Run, run! They hiss and scream and plead with her, whisper to the broken pieces of her heart, that this cannot end well. Love, after all, only hurts. Even now it hurts. This man who has no idea just how much she loves him and oh what fool she is, again. Because if she had ever loved Shotaro as much as she loved this man, she would not be broken: she is sure she would cease to exist.

A cold ache settles in her chest and she remembers this feeling – a tight, suffocating heartbreak that begins to tear at the fragile, soft heart encased by her skin and bone. Heartbreak, she thinks through the agonizing pain in her chest, is soft. It is not a hard pain but rather a tender SNAP! Quick but soft. It is the flood of sorrow and anger and pain that is harsh.

Drowning must feel like this.

Her fingertips fall from his hair and subconsciously, she takes a step back, unaware of the action and still lost in fairy gold.

She's not sure what expression she's making and everything fades around her except for the muted hum of the TV and her own slow breathing. A breath here, a breath there. Enough to survive but not enough to care.

Finally, when she thinks she cannot take any more, she shatters at the numb, empty remembrance of _why_ love is a disgusting, hateful emotion. Even now, she cannot prevent the heated, dark thrum of jealousy that rushes through her when she thinks of Morizumi, Kimiko. Because her…..No, he isn't hers, he will never be hers. She takes another step back. A long slow blink at the warm haze that brushes over her eyes at the thought of Morizumi, Kimiko in her place. Kimiko in this apartment, in his kitchen, in his _bedroom_.

A crystal clear picture of them cuddling on that leather sofa, teasing in the kitchen while she cooks because Corn is _hopeless_ with food. Laughter echoing through these walls, meals shared at the table, and _love_ – the horrid, stupid, vile thing – between them. And she's not sure what shatters her the most, what breaks her more in that moment: that what she has with Corn are only fleeting memories and nothing more or the image of Kimiko, running fingers through golden hair, and saying three words Kyoko _hates_ – and wants to say more than anything else.

She breaks apart, splinters into tiny shards. The dam bursts, the locks all turning to dust and her grudges all falling into a soul wrenching lump that chokes and tightens inside of her.

The box, cracked open, slips shut with a quiet click.

And she falls to her knees with a thump, her skirt rustling as she hits the ground. Golden orbs squeeze shut, anguished tears sliding from the corners. For a moment, she can't hear anything over the TV. Broken, suffering cries and sobs wail out and it takes her a moment to realize that isn't the TV: it's _her_. The tears come harder when she realizes this, the sobs physically ripped from her stomach and pulled through her chest to leave behind burning gashes. The cries hurt more than the tears and all she can do is tilt her head back through the storm.

She doesn't have Corn – did she ever truly have him at all? – and her Fairy Prince isn't hers. This life she lives is nothing but a lie. _Love_ is a lie. How could she have ever thought a plain, boring, useless, worthless stupid Kyoto-born girl like her could ever be a Princess or deserved a happily ever after with a beautiful Fairy Prince whose heart she could never hope to –

Everything stops the moment strong arms wrap around her, pulling her into a firm chest. Tight like bands around her, she can't move through the heady scent of a familiar cologne that tickles her senses, calming her erratic thoughts instantly into nothing but a fuzzy muted hum in the back of her mind. A soft whistle is all that is left inside of her from the torrent of emotions assaulting her, driven away by the low, smooth voice that echoes from the chest her ear is pressed against and the words that fall over her from the mouth that is pressed gently into her bright orange hair.

It's mostly a shushing noise but she hears her name a couple of times. A numb blankness envelopes her as her body sags into the warmth she craves. For once, she lets go. Mogami, Kyoko gives into the forbidden emotion she hates. Just this once, for just this one moment, she is the Princess and she is loved. The tears have stopped – everything has stopped, even her heart she can't hear beating – and she lifts trembling arms to grasp at the broad, strong back of the man holding her. Fingers dig into the silken material of his shirt, clutching it in her hands, and her face contorts in pain as she buries it in his chest.

Limp, numb and broken Kyoko holds her Fairy Prince and lets herself love him.

Deep inside, in a once locked box surrounded by curled up and sleeping grudges, lifts an ornate lid. It lifts slowly without a sound. From the crack in the box peers out a pair of unsure golden orbs. It does not see grudges. Instead, these eyes see hatred and anger and the sharp shards littering the ground from a heart that had once been made of glass. The lid stops its slow ascent and then flings back suddenly, letting a dark dim light fall on the small singular form peering out.

It squeaks and falls back into the box, blinking up at a dark void before looking down at the tattered and ripped pink dress garbed around it's form. There is a shape of where a heart used to be on the dress but the red heart is missing, torn from the dress in a vengeful hurry. It's once white wings are dusted a dark grey from the ashes of the fire that had once burned brightly. It's black hair was in a tangled knotted mess at the nape of it's neck that hurt to touch and the small, thin being of emotion lied there, staring up at the empty void.

Once, there had been singing and happiness and dreams. The box, locked and kept safe, had glowed brightly, full of hope and fairytales. Darkness is all that remains in the heart of Mogami, Kyoko. The creature knows it is an emotion, and that for some reason it should feel sad, but it cannot remember what emotion it is supposed to be. It sits up slowly, blinking, and looks back down at the heart shaped hole.

 _What emotion am I?_ It thinks.

Something wiggles and it's gaze draws to the movement. Blank golden eyes stare at small wiggling toes of it's bare feet and it blinks, seeing the swollen red on the heel. It tries to lift it's feet to it's face but ends up off balance. Falling to it's back with it's feet in the air, it watches the dark light dance through it's toes. It's eyes blink half-closed as it's body begins to lighten. The Sleep is coming and this time, it does not know if it will wake again.

 _What is there for me to open my eyes to? What emotion am I? What is my purpose?_

As the light dances through it's toes in cold, wispy tendrils it thinks it remembers light glittering through beautiful glass slippers that cast a rainbow. It remembers an odd sound and it's little eyebrows furrow slightly. It tries to replicate the sound but nothing seems to match and it lets it legs fall with a thump back to the dusty floor of the box. The sound is light and airy, soft and warm, like the tinkling of a bell. The hole in it's dress is cold, freezing, and it shivers remembering a warmth that could rival the Sun burning in it's chest. The Sun is but ashes now, dusting it's wings a charcoal grey and leaving it's golden eyes empty.

And then a tremendous crack resounds. It watches, in numb fascination, as cracks dart across the dark void above it like lightning. The world shakes, the box rattles, and it watches as the darkness splinters into millions of tiny black dots. Gold winces and squints at the sudden bright light that falls over it, lifting it's arms to shield it's face. A dizzying sickness washes over it and it squints painfully. The light _hurts_. It burns and brings tears to the small being's eyes. There is no Sun only bright light all around. As it adjusts, it's arms fall away.

Something tickles it's mind, a far off memory, and the being finds itself rising in lazy movements. Blinking through the hazy blank cloud enveloping it, the being slouches toward the edge of the box and jumps. Short fingers grab hold of the edge and it hauls itself up to peer out at the world beyond. It's white everywhere the eye can see with small, wispy pink clouds floating by. Off in the distance is a glittering crystal castle as tall as the eye can see – when it tries to tilt it's head back, it squeaks when it nearly topples off the edge and back into the box – with the grudges lying still and motionless at the foot of the box.

A deep feeling surges in it's belly and it looks down, cocking it's head slightly at it's stomach.

 _Am I hungry?_ It blinks in confusion and looks back at the castle, as if the glass holds all the answers. _What do I eat?_

One of the grudges groans and a single orb opens. Hatred looks at the nameless emotion and the emotion wants to hide at the smirk that curls Hatred's lips. The blue grudge chuckles twice and it's eye falls closed. The emotion watches – _Is watching all I can do?_ – as the grudges' blue bodies slowly turn to dust, carried away by a sparkling wind. It follows the tiny specks of blue grudge dust until it can no longer see them through the expansive world. Looking back at the castle, the sparkling wind brushes at it's limp, useless wings.

Leaning over the edge, it begins to lift a leg to climb out and loses it's balance. Toppling over the side it tumbles to the soft white ground with an 'oomph'. It's fall scatters sparkles into the air and it watches the lights, numb except for a dull ache in it's dress' heart shaped hole. Rising to it's feet, body sagged and wings limp, it meanders towards the castle made of glass.

 _I need to be there. I think._

Everything is the same as it turns in a slow circle, continuously walking forward. When it glances back at the open box, it is gone and a small pang reverberates through it's empty body. The castle towers over it, sparkling and bright yet empty. The emotion stops and tilts it's head back, following the castle up, up, up until it almost falls backward. Waving it's arms, it keeps it's balance and looks at the steps laid out before it. Everything is a clear, glittering glass that is filled with sparkles and shiny magick. Though it is glass, it is not see-through and the emotion cocks it's head again at the conundrum.

It is glass that is glass but is not glass. Somehow, it feels it should know this but is confused when it doesn't. It hobbles forward to the first step and lifts an angrily swollen red foot. The glass is smooth but not cold when the emotion's bare foot steps forward. The glass is warm and a rush flows through the small being as a memory rises to it's mind from the depths of the engulfing numb. Hesitantly, it presses it's toes against the glass again but there is no rush of warmth this time.

This leaves it feeling oddly disappointed.

Climbing the steps doesn't take long if you don't count the stumble up a couple and the trip that sent it rolling to a halt in front of two tall, arched glass doors of the castle. A small head cocks to the side as it's gaze travels around the doors, trying to peer into the crack that lets it inside. A beat pulses in it's belly and the emotion sits up on it's knees, looking at it's belly in confusion. What is going on?

Having no answers – but knowing it will find them inside – the emotion stands back to it's feet. The small frame squeezes perfectly through the crack in the doors and the emotion stumbles into a large grand foyer. Tangled black hair brushes out of it's golden eyes as it's head falls backward. The glass itself is not see-through but the light of the world outside sparkles through the glass, casting hues of colour and magick across the foyer. The small emotion remembers dancing and singing, memories that are out of reach now that still haunt it's fuzzy mind, clawing at the numb haze that envelops it.

It can hear the nostalgic laughter still echoing in the glass. All of this is too much for the small emotion and suddenly all it wants to do is get away. It squeezes it's small eyes shut and runs, barrelling down glass hallways that echo with memories, through doorways and open doors that still scream of times long past. It runs and runs and runs, bare feet pounding against the smooth castle interior. The hole in it's dress, over it's chest, it _aches_. The pain is too much, _too much_!

Charcoal grey wings hang and drag despondently behind as it runs, it's breath coming quicker and quicker, until at last it can take no more. Falling to it's knees, the emotion shoves it's small hands over it's face, and cries. The pounding in it's feet and tight breathing are nothing compared to the pain in it's chest. Tears sting it's eyes as it's hands fall away and blurry golden orbs open. The room is long and wide with an open ceiling, allowing light to fall in and glitter across the glass floor like stars. It resembles a ballroom and a throne room with, at the very end of the long room, a beautiful glass throne.

As soon as it's eyes fall on the throne, a loud beat echoes from within, calling to it. Sniffling, it shakily crawls across the room towards the throne. As it takes each agonizing step forward, the pain lessens until it is numb once more. Standing to it's feet, the emotion stares at the throne and feels a pulse urging it to sit, to remember, to feel. A shaky hand trembles as it reaches towards the throne but pauses.

What if…..What if all those scary things come back? The aches, the burns…..The pain? Fingers curl into a shaking palm as it hesitates. It's eyebrows furrow when something glints at the base of the glass throne and the emotion looks down, retracting it's hand to it's chest. Small, tiny shards litter the very base of the throne and the emotion looks at it's bare feet. A memory comes of glass shoes shattering and the empty heart over it's chest grows colder.

 _I can't do this! Why am I here? Who am I? What emotion am I!?_

It sniffles but before any tears can build, something faded catches it's eye. Reaching forward the emotion shakily, hesitantly, picks up the small faded red heart sitting on the throne. Both hands grasp at the ripped, frayed and faded red heart in it's small fingers. A moment passes as it stares at the heart in it's hands before, finally, it is free. The heart glows brightly, sparkling and beautiful, and the emotion gasps when the glowing heart shoots towards it's chest. When the light settles, a glowing red heart is sewn into the torn and tattered pink dress.

And the angel finally remembers.

Tilting it's head back, it spreads it's arms and let's the light of the glowing heart wash away the emptiness inside. Happiness, hope, joy, everything good gurgles and bubbles, filling the small angel with everything it had forgotten. It's thin, pale limbs strengthen, skin smooth and shiny. Limp charcoal wings rise and with a single flap, the ashes are blown away revealing pure white wings that glitter and shine.

Tangled, messy black hair falls away, trimmed to the shoulders as a bright orange splashes through like paint on a canvas. Each strand is filled with life, a small golden tiara with a giant heart in the middle resting atop her head. Her tattered clothing is surrounded by a glittering magick that rushes over her before revealing a lacy pink dress that swishes in the wind left behind. The magick slowly scoops up the tiny, scattered shards of glass at the base of the throne. It swirls and twists into a flurry of light and when it fades, in it's wake are two glittering glass slippers.

When the angel opens her golden eyes, they are wide and bright and filled with hope. She looks at her slippers and smiles.

Fluttering her white wings, she hovers off the ground. Lining up her feet with the slippers, her wings drop her and her feet slide effortlessly into the shoes. The glass is warm. Giggling, she spins around and with a deep breath, puffs out her chest, and sits on the throne. Silence befalls the world of white in a sudden moment of change.

Then, from her red heart in the middle of her chest, bursts colour. A pulse of red washes out over the silent world holding it's breath. It starts from her chest and echoes out farther than she can see, leaving no stone unturned and nothing left untouched. Blue dust swirls into the room from different directions, coalescing together in a tangled mess of light and dark blue. The angel grins, bouncing on the edge of her seat and clapping her hands as she waits for her friends. Once changed, nothing is ever the same. But that's okay! They have time.

Pop!

Another angel pops out of one of the swirling mists of light, falling to the glass floor with a shriek and a wave of arms. She lands on her chin with her butt in the air and knees underneath her. When she sits back to rub her chin, the heart angel looks on in sympathy. Where once the world had been filled with pink dressed angels and red hearts, now there remain only herself untouched. Her friends – angels turned grudges, forgetting themselves and lost to the darkness – pop out of the magick, one by one, all with hair dusted black and orange and golden eyes. Yet not one looks like her.

She is sad but understanding, lonely but happy her friends have returned.

She looks them over and her heart hurts. Where they had once worn pink dresses with red hearts – and had hateful symbols carved over their chests to never let them forget the pain as grudges – they now wore dark blue dresses with red trim. In the middle where their hearts used to be lie the symbol of a broken heart: one side is pitch black and the other is a faded pink. Their wings, once a fluffy white like her own, are various shades of mottled grey with one of her friends – she snorts when she realizes it is Hatred – having one completely white wing and one completely black wing!

Their once pink slippers are gone and she watches the confusion for a moment, waiting for the moment when they realize. It doesn't take long before Hatred, spinning in a circle looking at her mismatched wings, sees the Queen sitting in her throne. Her friend – tears burn her eyes at the sweet angel she remembers and the lost demon who had locked her away – storms up to her, hands on her hips, and huffs out, "Just look at what you've done now."

The angel looks at her bewildered friends all scattered below, knowing there are many more throughout this world, before looking back into the eyes of her friend. Light gold meets dark gold. Some say it is a very thin line between the two of them and our angel agrees. She stands slowly – and tries not to cry at the distrustful glare her twin sends her – and cups her sister's cheeks in her hands. Where her skin is luminescent and glowing, her sister's is empty of light.

She looks into her sister's eyes, so much like her own, and she smiles. The line between them blurs as her sister's dark gold glisten with tears. The darker angel sniffles and whispers harshly, "Why?"

"Because," She smiles. "I am Love. _That_ is the emotion I am."

She's lost in a haze of warmth. Strong arms are wrapped tight around her and really, she's sure they're the only things keeping her from disappearing. Tight and secure, his arms encase her. One of those large hands is holding the back of her head gently to his chest. The touch is so gentle she can barely feel it if not for the heat his body emits. Her self-awareness of him doesn't help either.

His other palm is pressed firmer into her lower back, keeping her within the cage of his wide, broad chest. The erratic thumping in his chest relaxes her, golden eyes peering out at the apartment through slits. She can barely hold the lids of her eyes open, the rainbow hue of the TV playing out across the shiny hardwood floor. There is a ringing in her ears like a dropped bomb has just gone off, leaving her body dazed and numb. The after effects are a dull throb in her blank mind.

Vaguely, she thinks she can hear a muted click from within her.

It sounds almost final – the click of something closing, once and for all, and she knows she knows what it means. Except he's so warm, he's here, and for just this one moment, she's allowed to hold him. Feeling silk bunched in her hands, her fingers twitch and dig in tighter. The body she's attached to presses her closer and slowly, the numbness fades with each exhale of her breath. As the ringing in her ears melts away, she can hear the muted voices of a variety show and the uproarious laughter from the audience. The male voices are low but she finds them oddly familiar, the corners of her lips twitching upwards.

The apartment is dimly lit with the lights turned down low. The shadows stretch across the apartment like shadowy wings. Light glares out from the kitchen and her mind flashes to broken glass. Eyebrows furrow as she remembers the sound of dishes shattering, trying to place it, but she's distracted by the heart roaring in her ears.

Her lids fall closed.

Her own heart dances to the tune in her ear but there is an ache in her chest she knows she has to face. She doesn't want to, she knows what awaits her even if her memory is fuzzy from the warmth of the man she lo–

And then it's over.

The single moment she allowed herself falls through her chest, dragging her heart with it. Golden eyes snap open and the world suddenly crashes into focus around her. Everything cracks, splinters, as reality slams down.

Love. Why is it always _love_ that breaks her?

Instantly and without her consent, hot tears build behind her eyes and she swallows past the jumbled knot in the back of her throat. The variety show in the background brushes her memory before it, too, clicks into place.

She can hear the laughter and when a voice joins in, the recognition that passes through her is affectionate. Hikaru-nii-san. Yappa Kimagure Rock is playing and if she weren't internally dying, she would find that ironically humorous. Instead all she can manage is despair that even at her weakest Fate continues to mock her.

Ren – No. _Kuon's_ body is hard and warm beneath her cheek, the silk of his shirt smooth against her skin. It takes a couple of firm blinks to shove back the tears before she gathers the strength to push herself away.

Her moment is over. The moment of weakness – of love – is over. Now all she can think about is leaving this apartment. She has to get out. The walls are too big, the ceiling too high, and she feels like she's drowning. Her only anchor is the man she can't have.

Her hands curl tighter and she presses closer for a brief moment before she lets go. Her hands, the shaking is hard to stop, rise to his chest and she pushes. She knows he will let her go. He has Kimiko waiting for him and despite that, he would never hurt her. This is a fundamental fact she knows. The cold ache is now a burning lodged in her chest but it isn't Kuon's fault; no, the only one to blame is Kyoko herself for becoming the fool she promised Shotaro she would never be.

How the hell was she supposed to resist this man?

She lost before she had even realized there was a battle. By the time her locks had started falling, it had been too late to stop it. A pang of hurt and bitter jealousy sweeps through her when his arms loosen. Head bent, she pulls away with her hands falling into her lap. One small hand grips the other tight in an effort to brace herself for her next words.

But he beats her to it.

"So that's you."

It's a statement but she feels the question and hesitantly looks up. The regret is instantaneous the moment her burning, bleeding heart stops beating. He's staring over the back of the couch at the TV but her gaze is solely focused on him. How could she see anything else? How did she not see it before? His golden tresses fall into his face and over his ears, messy from the wig, but they glimmer and shine. The long bridge of his nose ends in a point above lips that are lifted in a soft smile that renders her grudges defeated.

And she's shocked to find she cannot find any of her grudges at all.

His jaw is sharp yet refined and her fingertips itch to trace it. Clutching tighter to her rebellious hands in case they decide to act on their own and follow her traitorous thoughts, gold turns to follow his sight. There she is, dancing on stage with a guest in a giant chicken suit, with an audience practically screaming in laughter. Bou spins the happy guest – a rising new idol singer – who giggles heartily and curtsies when Bou gives an over-exaggerated bow. The black bow-tie at his neck falls off and Bou scrabbles to grab it.

The scene plays out on the screen and washes over the quiet of the apartment. Her nerves fade slightly when she doesn't see any sign of hate for not telling him.

The word slips out easily and she is proud when her voice doesn't tremble. "Yes."

Her eyes fall to her hands, head ducked, when she sees him begin to turn back towards her. She can't handle looking at him not when this is the last time she will ever see him again.

There is a moment where she can feel his stare on her. It's not intense but her skin sparks from the heat she can feel from him. They are still awfully close despite him having released her and she knows she should move away, put distance between them, but her legs are numb. She's scared and if she's being honest, Kyoko has never wanted to stay so badly anywhere in her life. When she leaves, it's all over and she presses her legs down to the floor discreetly. Not yet. Just another minute in this apartment, near her Fairy Prince, then she will leave and never look back. She will give up and she will move on.

His chuckle is more a rumble in his chest. "I should have known it was you." He's clearly amused but there's a softer emotion lacing his words that she can't place. "The bowing, the apologizing…"

A tic makes her eye twitch at the way his voice fades off in a teasing tone she knows all too well. The pain in her chest eases and she can breathe easier for a moment.

A commercial blares out from the TV but she hears his soft voice over it as if he had whispered the words in her ear. "I should have known when I trusted a giant chicken for love advice that it was you."

The wistful tenderness sends the pain in her chest sharply back. Her heart clenches, chest aching and tight. The hot knot in her throat from earlier threatens to strangle her if she doesn't breathe through it, tears burning up the back of her throat like acid. They build in the back of her eyes but inside she screams, _no! No! You're an actress. You will not cry. Not now!_

Then she opens her mouth.

"It was me and I'm happy my advice has helped you. I'm sorry for deceiving you. You and," She pauses, the name on her tongue bitter as jealousy seeps into her blood. "Morizumi-san make a….good couple."

It all felt like watching an old movie you loved years ago but forgotten the plot to. You loved it so much, you knew it by heart, but then suddenly, years later when you re-watch it you realize how little you actually remembered it.

That feeling fell over her the minute before Kuon responded. She felt it in her bones. Her blood stopped flowing, her heart stopped beating, she couldn't even breathe any more.

Right as he took a deep breath to speak, that feeling doused her in a cold dread as wave after wave of icy cold burst from the man before her.

"Morizumi-san?" The way he said her name wasn't soft and Kyoko blinked down at her clutched hands.

That wasn't how you address someone you love. And why did he sound as if he didn't remember the name? Why was he so furious that he was planning on sending her into the next Ice Age? She couldn't stop her trembling reaction from the coldness emitted by the Demon Lord still on his knees in front of her. Well, if she died, she would leave everything to Moko and Chiori. Besides her voodoo dolls. Those would go to Maria-chan.

When he sighed as if the world had suddenly fallen onto his shoulders, Kyoko shot her gaze up without thinking. He was on his knees but still loomed above her though closer than their heights usually allowed. She still had to bend her head back to stare up at him and she regretted it when he looked down at her.

Those weren't the eyes of a Demon Lord staring down at her.

What stared down at her was a desperately tired and sombre man. She inhaled sharply, all her breath caught in her lungs as her gold orbs widened. Kuon stared down at her – not Ren, not Corn, not her Fairy Prince – and she could see every part of him in that dark gaze. Her heart lurched forward reaching for him as they stared into one another's eyes. He was so close again and for a moment, she wondered if he had inched closer to her. His dress shirt was rumpled, the top two buttons undone, and she could feel his body heat soaking into her own.

Her skin tingled, the fine hairs on her body rising up. His cologne – something fine and expensive – was outweighed by the clean heavy smell of his natural scent. It wafted over to her like a mist, curling a finger and beckoning her to return to his arms. But her gaze remained locked on his, those irises darkening with something that did send her heart fluttering.

The Emperor has made his appearance.

The dark heat in his eyes burned her but she couldn't look away. There was something there behind the smouldering fire of his gaze that made her heart flutter in both fear and excitement. A strange feeling tickled her mind at the Emperor's gaze on her. Frozen, she could only watch as he lifted his large hands to dab at first one eye and then the other. He kept his eyes closed as he flicked his fingers but Kyoko was still frozen, staring at those closed eyes in muted and confused horror.

She knew, when he opened those blazing orbs, she would lose. What, exactly, she was losing, she wasn't sure.

When they opened, the Emperor dove into her chest and gripped her heart with a firm grasp, wrenching a gasp from her lips before she could stop it. She thought it was bad when Ren gave her that look.

It was worse on Kuon.

Bright emerald green tinged a very light aqua at the very rim bore down into her, half-lidded and full of dark promises.

Her heart was...Somewhere. And she was breathing...Right?

Kyoko could care less for anything but the man in front of her and the way he was looking at her. Her lips parted and his gaze – slow and languid – fell down at the motion. They sparked with the intense gaze and her belly flipped before he brought his gaze back to her own. His movements were slow and steady like he had all the time in the world.

Mouth dry from his stare, when his eyes slowly met her gold again, Kyoko's cheeks flooded with heat. Even the tips of her ears burned. Those emerald green pools had darkened to a luscious, light viridian and Kyoko wanted to melt into the floor.

She would have, too, if the Emperor hadn't chosen that moment to lean down. The air thickened, hot and heavy and tense, as Kuon slowly leaned down towards her until their noses were almost touching. Hot warmth engulfed her jaw and the bottom of her cheek when his hands brushed her skin. His touch was gentle despite the heaviness of his gaze but Kyoko felt her body tremble anyway.

Both of his hands eclipsed her jaw and her cheek, her face and her jaw too small for his giant hands. It should have made her feel afraid or nervous.

Instead, all she felt was a pulse heat.

Deep inside of Kyoko, in a castle made of glass, stirred an angel that had never woken before. It opened it's liquid gold eyes slowly, blinking long lashes as a slow smile curled her lips. Her wings were both black and her dress was not blue or pink. She was garbed in a red, strapless dress that was not like the others. It hung to her upper thigh and the dress was fitted to her form. A pair of red glass heels clicked when she landed on the glass floor. Where the other angels had broken hearts – or where Love had a full red one – this angel had a flame.

For the first time, Desire stretched her arms above her head and grinned.

A surge of heat flooded her stomach and Kyoko tensed, unprepared for the emotion that begged her for something she didn't know. The heat in her belly sparked through her blood and it must have shown in her eyes because Kuon's hands twitched, tightening and pulling her just a bit closer. The green of his irises drowned her in the thick, heavy emotions that sucked her in. A streak of pleasure burst through her – followed, barely, by a twinge of guilt – as she wondered if _Kimiko_ had ever made Kuon look at her the way he was looking at Kyoko.

"And just why is it..." He tilted his head, never breaking his gaze from her own. "You think I wasn't talking..."

He leaned closer until she could feel his breath wash over her lips and her gold orbs grew wider. "...About you?"

His intense stare stopped time only seconds before those eyes narrowed and Kyoko knew: she saw it and she could have stopped it. She really, really should have…!

But she didn't.

His words rung in her ears just as his lips crashed into hers. Her first kiss had been stolen by an ant-eater siphoning food. Her second by a Fairy Prince. She had always envisioned her true first kiss as being tender and sweet, filled with love, and Kuon's kiss completely erased Sho's from her memory.

Kuon blew the entire vision away the moment his lips met hers.

This kiss was not sweet. It wasn't tender and soft. Passion burned her lips, stroking the fire in her belly into a roaring flame that sent her blood humming and her heart fluttering into her throat. The heat of his hands deepened into a scorching burn that when they fell away and to her shoulders, her skin ached and tingled with his touch. Every pore of her skin felt alive, sparking and exuberant from the heat of Kuon and his devouring kiss. Thin hairs rose on her neck and her arms at the desire that flooded her veins, begging her for something she didn't understand.

Kuon understood. He heard the pleas of her body and he responded.

The flesh of his lips were soft but firm, insistent as they pressed into her own. Those long fingers slowly curled into her shoulders, the touch sending a shiver from her neck to the base of her spine, and unconsciously, she arched forward in a confused, heated daze. Kuon tilted his head, those lips parting against her own.

When Sho had kissed her, shoving his tongue into her mouth to taste the chocolate he had shoved in, his tongue had been rough and cold. His touch as he grappled for her had made her shiver and want to run away, to jerk from his hold and it had been nothing like her dreams. A hot, wet and silky tongue parted her lips, slow and gentle, before delving into her mouth with a flourish that left her completely breathless.

Sho was an icy cold that washed over her. Kuon was a burning fire that threatened to burn her alive. The Emperor dominated her with his tongue, pushing and prodding and tangling with her own. It brushed smoothly through her mouth as if he knew every corner of her. Devouring her every breath the touch of his tongue slowed, soothing the aggressive touches with gentle caresses that sent her into a reeling dizziness.

Her heart slowed, falling back into her chest, and the burning heat thickened to a slow crawl in her blood. A heady pleasure fell over her and before she could stop to think about it, her hands rose. Her small hands pressed gently, shaking from the desire that still lapped at her belly, into the silk shirt hiding the carved chest from her gaze.

Something snapped between them and Kuon jerked away from her, his body instantly tensing beneath her hands. The hot blood in her veins flooded her face when she let out a soft shaky whimper at the loss of heat and warmth that had enveloped her. Golden orbs slowly fluttered open, head still tilted back as she looked up at the man who had not only stolen her heart but her body, too.

The look in his green eyes stirred the heat inside of her.

Shoulders tense, his back was tight with tension. His hands had left their perch of her shoulders to grapple at the floor, fingers curled into tight fists that trembled on the cool wood. He was still looming over her, gaze dark, with a chest that rose and fell heavily. Shiny golden hair fell over his face in loose strands, casting shadows over that strong face she would recognize in any crowd. The Emperor was still holding court, staring down at her in all his full dark power, yet twisting through the darkness of his eyes lurked her Fairy Prince.

A soft emotion curled through his dark eyes, twisting beneath the passion and the desire, reaching out for her and begging her to _understand_.

Slowly, she did.

One slow blink after another, the air of the apartment cool against her wet, swollen lips and slowly, the words registered in her mind. Yappa Kimagure Rock played the last of it's skit, the ending tune playing out, as loud to her ears as a drum banging repeatedly in front of her. His words seeped from her mind down to her heart, cuddling into her heart and filling her chest with a warmth she knew she should fear.

His question – it was a question – rang in her ears as, finally, she understood.

Golden pools widened as she parted her lips to speak – instantly aware of the way those dark eyes fell down to her lips and narrowed – and blurted out in a frantic mumble, "Y-You can't….You don't…."

Her words, slow and hesitant, caused those fathomless eyes to snap back to her own and she couldn't help the involuntary squeak that fell out of her.

The darkness softened slightly before he spoke, voice rough and heavy that sent a thrill from the top of her head to her toes. "I can't _what_?"

Swallowing, Kyoko was instinctively aware that she was back on another cliff. Her back was to the very things she knew, the darkness in which she could fling herself and hide from the truth that looked brazenly at her in the form of the Emperor. If she answered him, if she took that step toward him and away from the edge of the cliff that begged her not to, she _knew_ she would never be able to escape him.

Their eyes both stared into the other, steady and deep, neither one searching or probing. The air grew thick between them like a mist of gun powder, ready to ignite and explode at the slightest hint of a spark. In this moment, Kyoko knows if she gives in, if she answers him, her feelings will be revealed and he will see the stupid, foolish woman she's become.

Lory's words float back to her in a muted whisper from that fateful day in his office: _"I truly believe you're laying your hands on the curtain of a great love drama. But no matter how good it is, it's nothing until the curtain rises."_

Does she want to throw the curtains aside? Can she let go of her hatred, her fear and her doubts, and let herself love Kuon?

Her Fairy Prince, with glittering wings and shiny gold hair, holds out a hand to her, his green eyes soft and tender as they beckon her away from the edge of the cliff.

Love, deep inside of Kyoko's heart, smiles as she sits upon her throne, staring up at the sparkling sky above the open castle, peaceful and content.

Every moment she has ever shared with this man, every piece of her life with him in it, even the moments with only her thoughts, rush into her like flowing water. With new eyes and understanding alight in her breast, Kyoko pulls back the curtains and faces her fate.

What she sees is a reverently smiling Fairy Prince with bright green eyes staring down at her, unsure but glowing in a breathtaking, gut wrenching tenderness. All the times she hid her feelings bubbled up like a gurgling fountain, pouring from her heart into her eyes. Her lips curled sweetly into a soft smile, still slightly parted and wet from their passionate kiss. Cheeks a warm pink, her eyes crinkled at the corners as her smile brightened up her gold irises that reflected back at her in Kuon's tender green.

The love she felt poured out of her, her entire body relaxing as, finally, for the first time since her heart broke, she felt herself give in to the love that flowed into her as easily as if it had never been missing in the first place. Love was warm and bright filling her with air. Bubbles burst inside of her, full of hope and light and caressing her heart. When she thought of why she had hid it so long she couldn't understand. How could she have ever hoped to fight the sparkling magick that sang through her blood?

Swallowing past all the words she suddenly wanted to say, Kyoko looked at her Prince and said, "You….You love me."

The moment she said it, the truth settled in her heart. This otherworldly – for surely he was a Fairy, she refused to believe otherwise – man _loved_ her.

And suddenly Kyoko didn't feel so foolish any more.

Soft smile still gracing her lips and a heart pounding in her chest, she leaned up slowly. His reverently content face melted into shock as she brought their lips close. The surprised gleam in his eyes brightened with hope and her heart instantly sprung out of her chest at the glowing, shining hope that glittered in his green orbs. His expression shifted and she felt the air change around them, charging with electricity and sparking over her skin.

Small fingers climbed up the silk of his shirt to his shoulders before looping behind his neck, hands fidgeting at the base where his sparkling blonde hair teased her fingers. Lifting herself up half-way, with love reigning once more in her heart, Kyoko whispered against his lips in a gentle, teasing voice, "For a prince, you were awfully late."

One corner of his lips twitched, the desire in his eyes – desire for _her_ – lightening with humor. Cloth rustled and he shifted before she felt those wide palms and long fingers splay with the softest of touches over her hips before he responded. "I'm sorry, Princess. That was rude of me. Is it too late?"

His eyebrows furrowed and his green eyes flicked away from her face for a moment before he took a deep breath. They ensnared her again as a low, insecure rumble washed over her. "Am _I_ too late?"

With her heart pounding, her blood pumping erratically through her veins, giddiness and a daring, playful urge rushed through her. Soft turned lips edged into a teasing grin, wide and thrilling. Golden eyes glinted with promises of the future.

Love bloomed in her heart where hatred had once festered. The dark curtains thrown back, love poured into every inch of her body and every piece of her soul.

"You know what? You're right on time, Corn."

And then she sealed their happily ever after with a kiss.


	2. Confessions: Aftermath

Fingertips brush gently across the soft, smooth skin of the warm, supple body curled up against his own. The heat of her body laps against his own skin and draws him in like a moth to a flame. An airy, slightly sweet, aroma exudes and he takes a long, deep inhale of the only scent he ever wants to smell in his life. A low, steady thump mirrors his own as he lie with her, curled up on his couch. The leather is cool and slick beneath their tangled bodies and Kuon's lips stretch into a slow grin. He keeps his light green, aqua-tinged eyes closed and lets the steady pulsing warmth wash over him.

Sweet heat envelops him and his body hums, answering the call of the silky, lithe form trapped against him. Long, leanly muscled arms hold the small form, pressing her into his sharp, firm edges. His silken baby blue dress shirt is crumpled and wrinkled and he knows the dry cleaner will have questions. He keeps his eyes closed even though sleep has long since faded before the Sun even rose in the sky.

The top three buttons are undone, baring his collarbone and his upper pectorals to the cool air of his apartment. Cuff links are unbuttoned and shoved up to the crook of his elbow. His back is pressed into the cold leather of the black couch, the chill soaking into him and battling with the heat in his blood. One long leg is bent gently at the knee and stretched as far as it will go to the armrest of the couch. The other is draped over two thin legs that are bent upwards and tucked behind his other leg. It should feel awkward but it keeps her anchored to the couch, to him, and as long as she's curled up with him he doesn't care about how.

Her legs are bare to the chill with a pair of his sweat shorts hanging to her knees and tied at her waist in a neat, tight little bow. One of his button up cotton shirts hangs loosely from her shoulders and where it would usually fall to the hem of his shorts at her knees, it's bunched up to her belly button. Her head and chest are curled into the hard planes of his own, her small hands between them and pressed loosely against the silk of his shirt. It's chaste and innocent but his gut tightens at the feel of her slim fingers and small hands at the ridge of his abs.

Her soft, quite breathing is the only sound filling the apartment as night turns to day and the Sun begins to rise above Tokyo, Japan.

He'd changed out of his smooth, sleek trousers and into a pair of warm sweatpants that hugged his waist. Thick, black socks kept his feet warm as he tilted his head down. Wispy, flyaway strands of bright orange hair tickled his nose as he leaned down, burying his nose in her hair and breathing her in. His cheek pressed into his shoulder, arm lying across the couch and bent very gently at the elbow. The large broad hand didn't touch her back but kept her from rolling off in the night and away from him.

His other hand was also bent, his elbow resting on his hip as the pads of his fingers skimmed the tight, smooth heat of her lower back. Each stroke was like hot silk beneath his fingers, the touch burning but soft and the muscles at his stomach tightened.

They still had so much talk about, there was still so much to do and they still had to discuss….

His gut clenched and his mouth ran dry, molten heat rushing through his veins. That kiss….And all the ones that had followed. Last night, after that first kiss, _their_ first kiss, things had escalated. Amidst the fire that burned strong and thick between them, between the passionate, breathy kisses, and between the searing touch of skin they had talked. Well, he had talked, huskily and hoarsely, and Kyoko had listened.

Fingers twitched as the memories of the night before flooded him. Oh she had listened but she had also contributed sounds to that conversation that left his chest way too tight and shame rushing to life. He'd stopped, then, and demanded he take her home.

But Kyoko was a hell of a force to be reckoned with.

If the stubborn girl didn't want to do anything, she wouldn't, and no force on Earth could make her. And Kuon certainly didn't have the heart or willpower to resist her.

Not when she wrapped thin, slender arms around his waist as he had reached for his keys off the nook behind his door. How could he possibly resist her pressing her body into his rigid back, her round, soft cheek rubbing into his broad back? She'd held him, pressed into him, her hands holding him tight and then she had whispered, tender and soft and vulnerable, "Can't I….Please, can I – just please, let me stay."

Nope, Kuon had not yet learned how to deny her.

So, after changing, they had sat on the couch and they had talked. And kissed. Heavily. And they had….Hands had wandered and touched, curious and gentle. As the memory of their heady kisses and hot touches burned through his memory, he tightened his hold on the small girl in his arms, drawing her closer as his body pulsed with an aching, desperate need for her. Her skin was tempting and soft, right beneath his fingertips, and his lips slowly parted as he inhaled deeply. Her scent invaded him, lighting up the nerves of his skin like a slow, sweet aphrodisiac.

If she was a poison, she was sweet. Hot, burning fire swelled in his belly, flooding his body and sinking low. Desire swam, thick and heavy, through him like oil, only fuelling the inferno in his gut. His groin pulsed and Kuon's entire body grew taut and rigid as he froze.

He finally slid his bright green orbs open.

Tufts of messy, bright orange hair greeted him as did the sight of a sleeping, vulnerable Mogami, Kyoko in his arms. She _trusted_ him and he knew, without a doubt, she wasn't ready. Things had gotten out of control last night, with the truth and confessions, and the last thing Kuon wanted to do was hurt her. The fingers pressed into the dipped curve of her lower back pulled away as he lifted the hand from _his_ shirt. A primal, dark surge of confidence and possession swelled within him as his eyes darkened to a lush forest-green.

He loved seeing her in his clothing. It was something deep and dark in his blood. She was his. She didn't _belong_ to him, she _chose_ him. And to see her wearing a piece of him, proudly and comfortably, made the desire within him purr.

But he pushed through the fire in his gut, past the thick, heady desire flowing in his blood like molten lava, and he discarded all thoughts but one that he kept chanting in his head, over and over like a spell to keep him from touching her.

Staring down at her softly breathing form cuddled into his chest, her small hands relaxed at his abdomen and legs tangled within his own, every part of his body suddenly stopped. Early morning light fought past a part in the curtains of his living room, casting spots across snowy white skin and a thin, lithe body. Deep black roots peeked out from beneath the bright orange-chestnut coloured dye and everything within him slowly stilled. Light played across her and twisted through the shadows of his apartment, a balance of light and darkness, a harmony of power and grace. Nothing in the world mattered to him, in that moment, but her.

Every pore and part of his skin tingled, hairs raising, as the thick blanket of her warmth unravelled over him. He sunk into the couch, into her, his large hand finding it's way back to her dipped spine where he spread his fingers. There was no way to describe her flesh but smooth silk, a tempting, cloying softness that dared him to taste her.

And oh did he want to.

He settled, instead, for pressing a chaste but lingering kiss to the top of her head.

His lips itched with the memory of her kiss, of sweet heat and cute, innocent sounds that drove him crazy. The pull of her hands and the way she clung to him….He was _needed_ , he was necessary to someone, and though she had no idea what that meant to him, Kuon would never forget. With that one simple revelation, with her need and desire for him, she had, once more, saved him. If everything in his life, if his bloody past, had led to her then….

He would sacrifice it all again just to meet her. If the blood and death was what it took to reach her, then he wanted to fall than live a life without her.

In a way, he understood more about the Christian devil Lucifer than he ever had before.

Lucifer had chosen to fall, chosen his path, and turned his back on the light to be free. And if Kuon had to do the same to love Kyoko, he wouldn't hesitate. It didn't matter what he could become or what he was or what the future held. All he knew – and in a way had always known – was that as long as he had air to breathe and blood in his veins, he _would_ protect Kyoko and he would spend every second of his life showing her how much she deserved love.

"Corn…." It was a breathy sigh but it startled him out of his thoughts and he looked down in response.

Round, half-lidded golden eyes gazed trustingly up at him, dark and cloudy with sleep. Soft fingertips grazed his jaw as a slow, sleepy smile spread over her mouth, curving her lips into a bright, loving portrait that kidnapped his breath. His heart crawled into his throat and hung there, suspended and thick with overpowering love for the small woman in his arms.

Then realization hit her when a sunlight beam struck his glittering silky gold hair, brushing through the strands and making them shine.

He stared down at her, heart fluttering in fond affection, as he fought a grin that threatened to split his face in half. The spew of emotions was quick, tossing through her golden orbs like amber waves of an ocean. First shock in the rapid blinks of long lashes and fluttering eyelids that faded into wide-eyed, open mouthed horror. Then a dark, cherry-red almost purple blush sunk from the scalp of her orange hair, cascading through her pale visage, down her slender neck, and dipping beneath his shirt. Finally she settled on mortified and with a terrifyingly loud and embarrassed shrill squeak-scream, she dived at him and buried her head in his chest as her arms wrapped tight around his middle.

The shove sent his back flying into the back of couch and, with surprising strength he might add, her crash into him almost sent the whole couch tipping backwards.

It all poured out of him then in loud, bright laughter that spilled over from the love in his heart and the amusement that bubbled airily in his belly. Long arms held the flushed girl closer as he laughed, his chest vibrating and tears springing to his squeezed shut green pools. Burying his head in her hair again, the laughter dissolved slowly into the apartment, filling it with a warmth and light Kuon hadn't ever known he had been missing, until all that remained was a hot forehead pressed into his chest and his chest feeling oddly light.

Cheeks aching, he pulled away and looked down but Kyoko still had her head buried in his chest like an ostrich in the sand and more chuckles threatened to burst like bubbles from his lips. He held them back and cleared his throat quietly before lifting one long fingered hand. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he wove them through her orange hair. Methodically, Kuon ran his fingers through the short, soft strands and, without truly thinking about it, said, "I think I miss my black haired princess."

There was an unidentified, incomprehensible mumble from the confines of his chest and the corners of his wide smile twitched.

"It's impossible to understand you when you're suffocating yourself against me."

A long, tense moment where he wondered if she would ever lift her head up and then she very slowly pulled back but refused to look up as she mumbled, "I don't want to go back so I'm not ready. Yet. And I'm not a princess."

It was moments like this where Kuon truly hated Fuwa, Sho. It was moments like this where he could see the damaged cracks of her beautiful little heart and where he vowed to heal every single one.

Lifting his large hands, he cupped her cheeks and slowly lifted her head as he gazed down, green eyes narrow and focused. Her blush wasn't dark red but it still speckled her cheeks a light, pale pink. Her golden pools were brighter with sleep dislodged but the glow he usually found in them, the passion and zeal for life that often left others in breathless awe, was darkened by the pain of her broken heart. He could see it in those fathomless and shiny pools that cracked the gold in her irises to a dark amber. Fuwa had broke more than her love for others. The bastard had broken her love for _herself_. Kyoko was a humble girl and her self-confidence had been very low to begin with but whatever had been building was cruelly dismantled before it could grow.

Holding her in his hands, he could feel the softness of her skin and his thumbs unconsciously sought to ease her pain by brushing from the rims of her eyes, over her cheekbones, back to his hand. He held in his hands a fragile, broken bird who had never known what it was like to fly before her wings were torn and shredded. She was left broken and bleeding with a fear of flight that she vowed to never spread her wings.

Emerald orbs streaked with a reddish glow when the sun fell into them as he gazed down at Kyoko, willing her to see him and to understand the words ready to burst from his chest. He'd seen his father rant for 4 hours straight about him to complete strangers and he was just now understanding that urge, that desire, to tell the world and anyone who would listen how much he loved his family. Kuon felt it now, bubbling up like a fountain about to burst and spray water into the air, but he swallowed most of it down, knowing instinctively – and knowing Kyoko well enough – that she would refute and close up if he said everything he wanted to.

So instead of a monologue that would probably put his father to shame, he gazed into gold and let his heart drip from his lips. "I don't think I made this very clear last night so let me clear it up now. You are _my_ princess. You have been since the day I met you in that Kyoto grove. I'm not a very good Fairy Prince, not any more…."

Her round orbs instantly narrowed and the fingertips at his jaw tapped him in refute. He simply smiled, the feel of her cheeks in his hands and her body pressed into his own keeping him going. "But you are so much more than a princess. You don't walk around in glass slippers or need a crown. What you are, Mogami, Kyoko, is the one thing I have never been."

He leaned down, his cool forehead pressing into her still slightly warm one. Their eyes stayed connected despite the awkward angle and when her gold orbs glistened with unshed tears, he saw the fear rear up. His hands fell from her face, trailing softly down to her hips where he slowly pulled her closer until she was flush, hip to hip, with him.

Her small blush darkened but she didn't look away. Deep inside he saw the bird longing to fly but scared to fall and his heart beat painfully. He would take away that fear, right now, and he would never let her fall again.

"You're the fairy, Kyoko. You are bright and beautiful." He ignored the quiet squeak and continued in a slightly louder tone though his voice remained husky and deep from the emotions coursing through him. "You're amazing and passionate. God, Kyoko, when your eyes light up and you start waving your hands in all these cute, sweet little gestures….You're so beautiful and humble and kind. There is so much love in you and so many people who love you. You're right, you aren't a princess. Because princesses don't have scars or blistered feet or broken wings."

He took a deep breath of the sweet, airy aroma of her skin before his voice dipped and this time, the tears slowly built at the corners of her golden eyes. She was hanging onto his words for dear life as if he had the power to break her and he knew he did.

He also knew he would never hurt her and it was time she knew that he wasn't Fuwa. Out of everything he had said the night before, there was one thing he had been scared to tell her directly. He had hinted and their kisses, their touches, had certainly implied it but looking at his bright-eyed, teary princess, he knew she needed to hear it.

And it was if something was set free because the words slipped easily through his lips. "I love you, Mogami, Kyoko, all of you and I fully intend to show you every chance you will allow me and when we're married," He paused to send her a look and she shut her opening mouth with a quiet click. "Because I _will_ ask you to marry me, over and over until you say yes; when we're married, Kyoko, I will show you everyday. You are not a princess. You are a warrior fairy who shines and I only hope that one day I can be a fairy prince worthy of you."

Green, darkened with emotion, met gold, bright and shiny from the tears at the corners, and nothing else mattered.

She pulled away from his touch and for a moment, he thought he went too far and even though his heart sunk, he opened his mouth slightly to prepare any amount of words it would take for her to forgive him.

Only he never got the chance.

As soon his hands fell away from her face, hers shot into the golden hair at the back of his head. She pulled him down and slid forwards, tilting her head at the last second and closing her eyes.

His fairy pulled him into a slow, deep kiss that sent shivers rolling down his spine. His long fingers dug into the soft skin at her hips and a surprised moan slipped between his lips when her wet, silky tongue brushed into his mouth. Desire and need built up between them and Kyoko pressed up, her body sliding slowly up his own until his head was tilted slightly back and she was kissing him from an upward angle.

His hands fell to the backs of her upper thighs and he squeezed the taut flesh there, swallowing her gasp before the Emperor took over. He remembered his barriers – barely through the onslaught of desire and passionate need – but her sweet, soft lips and her hot tongue sweeping his mouth was enough to wipe rationality from his brain.

She wasn't a princess.

Kyoko was a _Queen_ and it was time her King showed her what a dangerous game she was playing.

The tight reigns of his self-control loosened their hold as he gave in, only slightly, to the temptation that was a pixie wrapped in his embrace.

He pressed back, harder, urgently and let his need burn hotly from his tightly squeezed stomach, up his dry throat, and poured it all into Kyoko's willing body. Kuon had had many women but not a single one had ever affected him this much. He begged that he could keep Kyoko from feeling his desire for her but knew that that was pretty futile with how much his body ached for her. His groin was hot and tight and he knew that as much as he wanted to tease and teach his little vixen, she wasn't ready for anything like his mind kept bringing up through the red hazy fire burning beneath his skin.

But he still had to teach her a lesson.

Focusing on that one single thought, he kept his urges and base desires at bay as he pressed into her. The sensually deep kiss Kyoko had initiated flipped. Kuon took control, the reigns on the beast loosened to allow him freedom, and he took everything she offered. Gripping her hips, he twisted his large frame and shifted her with him, swallowing her squeal.

Small, thin fingers dug tight into the back of his soft hair and he growled gently, the sound vibrating through his chest and between their lips. He swallowed her gasp, too, and, hovering above her, he let go. Everything faded but her soft, pliable lips beneath his own. Heat flooded between them like a geyser about to burst. He pressed harder into her, the kiss turning rougher as his tongue delved into her mouth. Hot silk twisted through her, tangling with her own tongue and his pride swelled when she whimpered.

Thoroughly, his tongue invaded her until the hands tangled in his hair were trembling and her head was tilted back into the couch as his tongue devoured her in long, deep swivels and thrusts. He imitated what he wanted to do to her, what his body craved from her, and she was powerless to respond. Kuon drank from her until there was nothing left.

Their lips parted with a wet sound and even through the heavy lidded desire streaking her golden eyes, a pink flush dotted her cheeks at the noise. But Kuon wasn't done. He had to show her how dangerous this was. If he didn't, they would both regret it later when he _couldn't_ stop. As he hovered above her, he took a second to let his eyes drown in the image below him like a starved man. Deep, heavy pants mingled with his own, her chest heaving at the breathlessness of their kiss. Her pink lips were full and wet and his libido purred, clawing at his belly and leaving behind a burning itch to trace his lips everywhere over her skin.

Bright orange hair framed her head like a halo, splayed out across the black leather of his couch. Those temptingly kiss-swollen lips were slightly parted and the pink dusting her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose only enticed him more. He wanted to know where else her blood flowed. It was her eyes, though, that truly did him in and he struggled to tighten his self-control. He'd heard of bedroom eyes – hell he had perfected them in his acting! He knew how to look at a woman and make her wet with need but Kyoko ran circles around him.

Half-lidded gold pools streaked with a dark amber gazed up at him in a burning, sinful haze that shot straight to his groin and he grit his jaw. She fluttered her long lashes slowly, her breath coming quick and her head still slightly tilted back. Ravishing was the only word he could use to describe her as he looked her over, dark emeralds orbs raking over her body slowly, intently, and he grinned wolfishly when she shivered at the way he perused her over like a meal he wanted to savor and devour.

His too large shirt was bunched up to her belly button and hung off her shoulders, baring her collarbone, her shoulders, and the very top swell of her breasts. Those dainty hands were dug into his hair, wrapped tightly in the gold strands and the friction of the gentle pull at his skull only heightened his flaming desire. The long shorts had ridden up higher on her thighs until it was in a crumpled mess at her inner thigh. Seeing the pale, smooth skin of her thighs, the beast in him heeded their call.

Firm, soft flesh greeted his large, hot hands as he gripped her thighs, lifting her legs up so her knees bent upwards at his hips. He skimmed the skin before dipping behind her and squeezing. A sharp inhale and then she tensed, unprepared for the way his hands fit against the skin of her butt. His fingers danced and kneaded across the firm, smooth skin as he ducked his head, laying hot, open-mouthed kisses against the smooth arch of her slender neck.

A memory muddled through the fog in his mind of a hickey and he fought not to mark her there, in the spot she had marked him, and instead trailed his fiery kisses from her neck to her shoulder then followed the curve of her collarbone. Right before her shirt dipped to her breasts, he laved his tongue at the slightly swollen flesh before nipping her. Her breathy gasp broke into a surprised moan.

It instantly lengthened into a cry that pulsed straight to his groin when, none too gently, he bit the swelled flesh. He soothed the bite with his tongue, the hot brand searing over tingling, aching skin. The heat of his mouth calmed the bite and just as he felt her body relax into him, he grinned.

And then he sucked.

He pulled her warm skin into his mouth, his lips wrapped around soft flesh as he kneaded her with his tongue. He pressed and sucked until she was writhing on his couch, arched into his mouth and whimpering.

Kuon glowered with pride and possession but Ren held tight to the flailing reigns, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. As he pulled away, releasing her bruised and love bitten skin, he rested his forehead against her chest and let his eyes fall closed as she panted valiantly beneath him. Her heart was pounding in her ribs and her breath was coming in short, quick pants. Slowly his hands dropped her legs and he raised them to grab at her own, tangling their fingers together and holding her small hands in his own.

He waited and breathed the cool air of his apartment, flooding his body and calling on every ounce of control he had. As the seconds ticked by and his breathing evened out, it wasn't long before he felt the inevitable.

It started with her body, every inch of it, tensing. An explosion of heat against his forehead made his lips curl into a smile as he waited her out. Small fingers dug into the grooves of his own, clutching tight to his hands to stop the trembling. He snorted out a chuckle at the image of a cowering Kyoko with a squirrel tail, droopy ears, and wide, teary eyes. His chuckle reverberated through both of them, vibrating and deep, and when he felt her panic escalate through the way her whole body began to tremble, he took a deep breath of sweet skin.

"Shh. It's okay, Kyoko." Her heated blush turned burning against the cool skin of his head and he did grin then. "I know you're not that kind of girl. I know you aren't ready."

He was hesitant to leave the warmth and smoothness of her chest but lifted up his blonde head, chin settled between her breasts as he gazed up at the cherry-red woman who had stolen his heart with soft, bright green eyes. The moment he saw her, wide and teary just as he'd suspected, his grin melted into a warm smile that reached his eyes, brightening the green emeralds and making them shine. He held her round, mortified gaze and waited until her trembling settled before he continued with what he had wanted her to understand.

The soft, bright green firmed as his smile slipped and he gave her a focused, intent look that immediately quelled her panic.

His deep voice washed over them, huskier and rougher than he meant. "You can't kiss a guy in his apartment like that Kyoko. Not unless you want to continue what _you_ started."

It dawned on her like lightning and he almost, amusingly, fathomed he could see the lightning bolt strike through her gold eyes. They widened to impossible portions as her mouth snapped shut with a loud clack. She blinked wide owlish gold orbs at him and the dark red was washed away by a pale, snowy white.

He squeezed her hands in his own and smiled sympathetically. "Trust me, I don't mind continuing at all." If her eyes got any wider, he feared they might roll out of her head. "And I know you trust me. That's more than I deserve and I promised not to betray or disappoint you again. I won't ever betray your trust, Kyoko, but I am still a _man_. A man who is hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you."

His voice softened at the gathering tears in her now furrowed, shiny golden pools and shaky lips. "Who just got kissed by an amazingly, beautiful woman, _alone_ , in his apartment. You can trust me, always, Kyoko, but I'm still a man. Don't forget that. I know this is all so new to you so I promise to go at your pace. But you also have to respect my self-control has a limit."

Mogami, Kyoko was not a slow learner at all. She heeded every word of advice anyone gave her and as he saw the cogs working behind those shiny gold eyes, he knew she understood. It wasn't that they couldn't kiss – his apartment was the only place safe from the paparazzies prying eyes – in his place but he knew she needed to know boundaries and his limitations. If they were going to make this work, and there was no way he was ever letting her go, they had to respect each other and acknowledge what was acceptable.

For all that she was was loving and had a huge heart, he also knew that she had never been in a physical relationship. And if his teen years were anything to go by, hormones could make you act rashly. He didn't want their first time to be anything but willing and perfect, not on his leather couch in the early morning after a night of confessions where emotions were still running high. It wasn't right and he respected his Fairy Queen more than that.

Realization dawned with a sudden clarity and he watched, awed, by the sweet, tender smile that spread across her face. He'd never seen that look before and it made his heart flip in his chest.

She looked down at him as she whispered shyly, "Still my Fairy Prince, my Corn, always looking out for me."

"Forever, if you'll let me." He vowed, bringing both of her slim hands up and quickly kissing both knuckles on both hands, smiling in amusement at the instant flush of her cheeks.

Proposing marriage was too much for the shy, embarrassed teen who jerked her hands out of his hold and flung herself out from beneath him. She squeaked when she fell off the sofa but scrambled to her bare feet, straightening out his loose clothes as he shook in laughter with his face buried in the leather cushions of the black couch. It still radiated warmth from Kyoko and he laid there, chuckling and absorbing what was left of her.

When he peeked up from beneath blonde hair with half-lidded eyes, a tired, sleepy haze slammed into him and he fought his drooping green orbs with everything he had. He was no match, however, to when he felt a cool hand brush through his soft hair, lulling him into a numb doze. He mumbled something he wasn't sure was words until he heard her sweet little giggles wash over him before she murmured softly, "Sleep, my Prince. I'll be here when you wake….Kuon."

She pressed a soft, soothing kiss to his forehead and Kuon faded into sleep with the tinkling laughter of the fairies and a warmth that spread from his forehead down to his toes. Light and warmth guided him to his dreams where a Fairy Prince with once broken wings soared with his Queen beside him, hand in hand, into the bright sunlight.

Love screamed when the tall, slender form slammed into the sparkling, glass floor of her throne room with a loud crack and the force of a falling meteor. Zaps of glittering magick darted across the glass floor as the magick within the glass castle pulsed rapidly. The small fairy with the pure white wings and the bright red heart emblazoned on her chest dove behind her towering throne, peeking out with wide, golden eyes. A shadowy figure rose from the glittering sparks and Love trembled fearfully from behind the throne, scared of this new being and what it might mean for her friends, all scattered outside in the gardens.

Besides Hatred who resided in the bowels of the castle and Desire who took the top most tower.

The figure rose up, kneeling on the floor and hunched over, but even sitting on the ground the shadow was much taller than the fairy. She shoved past the fear and drew up as much courage as she could muster, her wings fluttering fretfully behind her as she opened her mouth to shout out to the foreigner.

But the words died on her lips and her wings sunk, eyes widening in surprise as the magickal mist was blown away from the stranger.

It flew out in a pulse of sparkles and wispy wind, brushing against Love who stood frozen, staring at the figure that stood out in her throne room.

Oh boy.

It was, indeed, a _boy_.

Messy, gold strands of hair framed a sharp, strong face and narrow green eyes. The glass reflected the light over his hair and making it shine, his emerald eyes glowing. He sat on his cloth breeches tied at his thin waist, the plain, ripped fabric shredded and torn. Dark stains dotted the cloth and Love recognized enough to know blood when she saw it. His large hands were spread out on the floor as he stared down into the flowing, swirling magick hidden in the glass. Pale skin over sharp bones, he was lanky and lean but, unconsciously stepping out from behind her throne, she could see the taut muscles hidden in his flesh.

Ready to tear little fairies apart, her mind supplied and she took a deep breath, fighting the urge to run.

For some reason, she didn't want to run away even though her body still trembled and her golden eyes were still wide with fear and surprise. But her heart whispered that she _couldn't_ run. If she ran from him, if she left the tall man there, she didn't know what would become of him. With his thin frame, narrowed blank gaze, torn bloody pants, and bruised knuckles he looked like he might just disappear into the air, blown away by the powerful magick coursing through the castle made of glass.

She didn't _want_ him to disappear. No matter how afraid she was, her heart thumped painfully and a tight, hot knot swelled in her throat at the thought of him being _gone_. Something about his presence no longer there was wrong to her and through her fear, befuddlement slowly grew. Just who was he and why did she care so much what happened to him?

She took a single step forward and stopped. Her eyes widened impossibly large and her mouth parted involuntarily as her small hands rose to her lips. Warm, wet tears blurred her vision as they brimmed in her round, wide orbs and her long lashes fluttered quickly to blink them away.

As soon as she saw them, she knew.

Bright, iridescent wings burst from his shoulder blades, connected to his back, and draped toward the ground listlessly. The sunlight bounced on them and danced through the crystalline wings, a rainbow prism glowing as tiny sparkles fluttered around. Her little white, fluffy wings curled into her back at the sight of the large, sparkling wings glowing in hues of greens and blues.

They were beautiful! He was a true fairy!

Except for the black lines coursing through the wings like veins of darkness, unreachable by the light and the flowing magick, a stain in the light of his glowing wings.

But she knew this fairy.

She'd met him years ago before her sisters had become grudges, before the light had faded and she had been sealed away, dying, and before the Castle of the Heart had gone bleak and dead to the light, it's magick still and broken.

It all rushed back to little Love and her tiny lips wobbled at the sight of what the fairy had become.

Back then he had been a shining, sparkling boy with a bright smile and glowing green eyes that sparkled deeper than any gem. His wings, then, had been smaller than they were now but just as magnificent. They had kept him aloft, light and magick rushing through them.

A large hand held out to a fairy with wings who couldn't fly.

A kind smile and warmth as he pulled her to him.

And they had played for days in the sun, her held close to the fairy as he flew, darting upwards and downwards, in daring loops and twists. Their laughter rang in her ears and through her mind as she looked at the black, sludgy veins marring his beautiful wings.

Her eyebrows fell over her eyes as she swiped at her tears, shaking her head to dislodge any hesitancy. All the fear had sunk away in the face of laughter and happy memories. She had to _do_ something! Once, he had offered her a hand when she had felt like her world was ending, like everything was over and she would never learn to fly.

It was time she repaid the favor.

Her shiny glass heels glared up at her and she smiled softly as she leaned down to remove them. As the cool, hard glass slid from her feet, Love closed her eyes and remembered that wide smile, brighter than any light and warmer than the Sun. He used to glow, he used to shine, and if his wings were too dark to fly….

Her fluffy wings, furled to her back, trembled as she removed her last shoe and looked up from beneath bright orange bangs.

Well, she would be his wings then!

Nodding firmly at her decision, Love stood to her feet and giggled softly at the warm glass beneath her bare feet. Her toes tapped the glass floor before she slowly made her way towards the fairy sitting on the ground. He hadn't moved an inch, head still ducked and blank gaze still aimed at the magick in the floor. His wings were still limp and hanging off his back like something he had forgotten or lost.

Steps quiet, Love moved closer, inching towards his bent head so she could stand in front of him and offer him her hand like a heroine to her prince!

Giddy at the thought, Love forgot one thing….

She was not a graceful fairy.

In her excited thoughts, one of her feet slipped on the magickal glass and, with a loud shriek, she tumbled through the air with flailing arms and mouth wide open. She hit the ground in front of the fairy, arms stretched out, wings bent at awkward angles, and on her stomach with her now burning head pressed to the smooth floor. Small fingers dug into her palms as she lie there, embarrassed and mortified at her impudence. How dare she, a common fairy, hope to cohort with the Prince of Fairies? She was just an angel-fairy, a common, plain, boring –

Her eyes popped open when she heard something bright and familiar that filled her with warmth. Her chest grew light and her heart squeezed as the sound of deep bells rushed through her blood, chiming in time to the beats of her heart. Afraid of what she might find, Love swallowed past the warmth in her throat and hesitantly glanced up.

Wide gold met shiny green.

Then, almost as if time's secrets and the past held nothing to this moment, the Prince of Fairies slowly stood to his feet. He stretched out his lean muscles, grinning when he noticed her watching, and then, as if dusting off cobwebs tangled with memories, he slowly lifted and unfurled his glimmering wings. They spread out behind him, glittering like crystals with sunlight and rainbows, beautiful and bright. The dark veins pulsed but the Fairy Prince paid them no mind. Instead, he looked down at her and her heart sped up, lodging into her throat, at the warm, tender smile that spread across his face.

He was back.

Corn was back.

He looked down at her, smile warm and soft and full of a tenderness that made her heart ache, and tears burned her golden eyes as he held out a large hand. She grinned wide, eyes glowing, and reached up. He pulled her hand into his own and pulled her to her feet. He didn't let go of her hand, instead, he pulled her closer into his tall body and folded both his lean frame and translucent wings around her. Wrapped in the embrace of Corn, the Fairy Prince, Love closed her eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart.

He was home.

Her Corn was finally home.

Just like he'd promised.

Together, hand in hand, wings unfurled with the Sun dancing over them and the strong, warmth of love in their hearts, they flew through the bright sky towards the Sun, their laughter the greatest magick of all.

 _Tiny forms giggled and screamed in joy as they flew through the bright sky, soft white wings spread as wide as their smiles. They dipped beneath the Sun and twirled in the bright rays, casting dark shadows across the reflective, glass castle that towered above the Spirit Realm. Round, gold orbs watched her friends fly, her sister laughing in glee as she tumbled through the air. Sitting on her knees, her ruffled pink dress scrunched beneath her, her shiny glass shoes cool against her bare feet. Fluttering, twisting sparkles danced between the flying angel-fairies as a magickal breeze swept by, ruffling the golden-eyed fairy's black hair._

 _Her sister – the twirling, laughing one with the odd bright orange streak in her coal black hair – had pulled the flightless fairy's hair into twin pigtails that hung from the sides of her head, as useless and limp as the white wings draped from her shoulders. Head tilted back to the warm Sun and the bright light, her small mouth parted in awe, she watched their wings flap and flutter and spread wide across the sparkling sky._

 _And she wondered what it was like to fly._

 _Her gold orbs glittered and her heart pounded gently at the thought that one day, she, too, would be able to fly and spread her wings._

 _Ever since her birth, the little fairy with the whispered name 'Love', had been….Different. Her wings had been born limp against her small body and she was the smallest of all the angel-fairies. Her growth had been slow and though she was not sickly, she lacked the ability that her friends so easily gained: power. All her tiny life, nestled in warm magick and soft light, she had been lost to the power of growth._

 _But she knew it wasn't her fault._

 _It wasn't anyone's fault Love was born to a girl who severely lacked it. Harsh words, cold disapproval, arrogant dismissal by her prince….No, Love knew why her wings didn't work. You cannot fly when all you were taught is to fall._

 _And Love knew how much it hurt when you hit the ground._

 _Over and over, Love and Kyoko had fought for their right, holding hands, only to hit a stone wall or be shoved away. It was one thing to get up and try again. It was entirely another to be pushed back before you could even stand. A shrill shriek made her shake her head, black pigtails flying, and look to the sky for the sound._

 _Her friends and her sister were all huddled together, white fluffy wings and pink dresses with bright red hearts on the front, looking down_ _towards_ _her with wide, shining gold pools. She glanced frantically between them, trying to figure out what was going on and why they were staring_ _towards_ _her like she had suddenly sprouted three heads and declared herself Queen – even though the ceremony for Queen of the Heart wouldn't take place for another_ _few years yet. Confused, and slightly fearful at the huddled angel-fairies, she looked around quickly before flinging her head around to glance behind her._

 _Behind her was a beautiful, ornate chest, all locked up and protected, with a bright blue stream rushing in front of it. It shimmered with flowing magick that rushed in rainbow twists and light sparkling streaks._

 _But it wasn't the Stream of Magick that her friends were gawking at._

 _It was the boy on the other side of the Stream. He sat on his haunches, long thin arms wrapped around bony knees and slender legs, staring into the Stream of Magick with his head cocked. His hair glittered like strands of spun gold, falling elegantly over his face like woven beauty. Bright green pools, dotted with specks of red when the light hit them, gazed down at the flowing Stream and into the coursing magick._

 _But that wasn't what caught her attention._

 _No, what she couldn't take her large, round eyes off of were his wings._

 _Love had never seen anything like him before._

 _Another soft breeze brushed past her as she turned on her knees to stare at the mystery boy, rustling through the white feathers of her useless wings. It brushed against the soft, white ground, mingled with the magick of the Stream, before tangling through the boy's golden hair._ _It brushed through his open tunic that bared a lean chest and over his cotton breeches, pressing the clothes against his thin, sharp edges and Love found herself blushing but unable to stop gawking. He was so…._

 _"….Beautiful…."_

 _When bright green looked up and his blonde eyebrows raised into his hair, one side of his mouth twisted into a half smile, Love flushed darker when she realized she must have said that out loud. Immediately flustered, she flailed her arms in front of her in spastic gestures and wide gold eyes as she stuttered out, "N-No, I didn't mean – Well, not that you're not beautiful….Because you are! It's just I didn't mean to say that and I didn't want you to hear me so can you just, like….Pretend you didn't?"_

 _Her voice hitched into a question at the end and the thin boy suddenly buried his head in his knees, his shoulders shaking, and Love flushed a deep, dark red and twisted her fingers together as her embarrassed gaze fell to them when she realized he was laughing at her._

 _Well, that was a great first impression._

 _"– too…."_

 _Her head lifted and met green eyes peeking above his knees. Gold orbs blinked as she mumbled, "I'm sorry, I didn't….Hear you."_

 _He lifted his head to reveal an amused but soft smile that sent her heart fluttering as he reiterated, slower and louder. "I said: You are beautiful, too. And thank you."_

 _"Oh."_

 _Their eyes remained connected as a light quiet stretched between them, broken only by her friends muted whispers, the soft breeze, and the flowing magickal water of the Stream that rushed between her and the boy._

 _And, for some reason, she didn't like_ _the river that stretched between them. The distance felt wrong to her and though he was smiling warmly at her and his eyes were the brightest green she had ever seen, there was a tight pull that edged her to get closer, to touch him, that she needed to be closer to him. Curiosity mingled with something stronger, deeper, inside of her and without thought, the angel-fairy pushed her hands onto the ground, rising onto all fours before rising slowly to her glass-heeled feet._ _Her small feet were unused to the glass heels and, with a surprised gasp and an awkward flail of her arms, she landed on her chest at the Stream's_ _cool_ _edge._

 _Crisp, cool water flowing with sparkling water drifted up to her in a small misty spray as she lay there, on her stomach, and looked into the water. It was bright blue and clear with streaks of glittering light. It gave her something to look at so she wouldn't have to look up and face her humiliation at the boy with beautiful wings._

 _But when his presence remained steady right across the Stream, she hesitantly looked up from beneath black bangs._

 _Her breath caught in her throat and her heart flopped out of her chest, blood rushing through her veins like the water in the Stream, bright and full of warm magick._

 _His head was cocked, cheek pressed into a thin, bony knee. Golden hair hung gracefully over his boyish face and over glowing green pools tinted with a fiery red that peeked out whenever a sparkle flew by or the light of the Sun struck them just right. An affectionately warm smile lit up his entire face, almost shimmering in it's intensity. He stared into her wide eyes without an ounce or hint of shame, instead his gaze was soft but fondly amused._

 _As she sat up, Love ducked her head into her shoulders and played with her fingers in her lap, twisting them against the silky fabric of her lacy pink dress._

 _This time, however, she was close enough to hear him ask curiously, "Why aren't you flying with the others?"_

 _Her fingers froze and her shoulders tensed, her back straightening as her gold pools darkened into a forlorn but sad acceptance of what she had come to know. "I can't. My wings are broken. They don't work. And…." She hesitated, not wanting, for some reason, this boy to know her fear. "I'm afraid to fall."_

 _She was afraid to look up, afraid of what she might find splayed out in the lush, light green of his eyes._

 _"I'm scared, too."_

 _Her head shot up at the quiet, bleak tone coming from a boy as bright as the Sun itself only for her heart to lurch and hot, wet tears to burn behind her eyes. Gone was the warm Sun and in it's place was a moon as black as coal, empty and dark. He wasn't looking at her. His gaze was twisted up, tilted up towards her friends who had gone back to flitting through the sky like birds. She watched him watch them fly before her gaze fell to the shiny wings at his back._

 _They really were the most beautiful she had ever seen._

 _Shaped like a butterfly's and a dragonfly's, the wings were translucent_ _ly iridescent_ _and shiny. The light played and shifted through_ _them_ _in hues of blues and green and purples as dancing lights sparkled all around the crystalline wings._ _They laid out behind him, touching the soft, white ground and glowing from the light that fell down around them. She'd never seen wings like them and, just once, she wanted to see him fly._

 _His words filtered back to her and she blinked as the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "You've got nothing to fear. Your wings are so beautiful and bright. You could never fall."_

 _The very idea was preposterous! Her determination must have filtered into her eyes because his green orbs fell back to her and he smiled, though it was smaller and lacked any warmth._

 _Something shifted through his gaze before he glanced up at the sky. "It isn't falling I'm afraid of."_

 _"Then what is it?"_

 _Curiosity did not kill the cat but it did not make it very happy._

 _Love leaned over, hands on her legs, eyes widely curious and intent on the fairy's answer. He must have saw something because his expression brightened and his smile lengthened, a bit of amusement dusting his green eyes. "Hands."_

 _It was a simple answer but Love wasn't happy with it. She leaned back, crossed her arms over her little chest, and her lower lip jutted out slightly as she mumbled with dejected, downtrodden gold orbs. "That explains a lot."_

 _The boy threw his golden head back and laughed. Deep, ringing bells pealed out of his lips as tears built in the corners that he wiped away when he was able to face her now blushing, embarrassed glare._

 _His grin stretched his lips and the darkness was gone from his eyes. Her chest softened, loosening at the warm fairy's bright gaze and boyishly wide smile. White teeth glinted from behind soft lips and Love relaxed in his glow, dropping her arms to her sides, her hands melting into the soft ground like a fluffy cloud._

 _The fairy's green eyes softened as he offered her an explanation. "You see….My father's hands are too big. Every time I try to fly, the shadow of his hands fall over me and…." He looked down then as he held up his own large palms and long fingers before he clenched them suddenly into fists, startling the little fairy and making her jump. "He rips my wings apart. His hands are too big. I can't squeeze through the King's grip and if I try with my torn wings, I become entangled in his grasp to the point where I feel like I'm….Choking."_

 _His voice had darkened, growing softer with the memories he was lost to, and Love's small, red heart reached out for him. Her eyebrows twisted up as she tried to find the words to say, to comfort this hurt boy, but all that came out was a hushed whisper. "Then….Why aren't your wings torn now?"_

 _He looked up suddenly as if he had forgotten she was there and Love paid no mind to the small fist that squeezed her heart. She was used to being invisible after all._

 _He looked back at his wings before turning back to her with a soft, aching smile that tore her own heart to little confetti strips. "They always grow back. No matter the pain or the fall or how much they're torn….They always grow back."_

 _It was like worms were burrowing in her chest and Love shifted on her bent legs, trying to ease the feeling, but she opened her mouth and spoke from her heart. "Of course they always grow back, silly fairy! Because one day you're going to need them."_

 _He blinked quickly before cocking his head like a dog, curious and questioning as he asked, "Why?"_

 _"For the day you will be big enough to fly farther than your father's hands! One day you'll be big enough! And strong enough! And you'll fly higher and higher and higher, until his hands can't reach you!" Emblazoned, Love brought small little fists to her chest as she gazed with a determined smile and fiery gold orbs at the Stream, her words pouring out of her, oblivious to the fairy who was watching her. "Because one day, Fairy Prince, you'll be King!"_

 _Panting from her strong winded speech, she squeezed her fists, gave a firm nod, and glanced up with_ _strong_ _gold eyes, narrow and focused, and a confident smile._

 _Only to squeak and fling herself backwards at the expression on the boy's face. Her head hit the fluffy ground as she held her fisted hands at her pounding chest, gold orbs shiny and wide as she gazed up at the glittering sky. Her heart was pounding against her chest so hard she thought it might burst! Her body tingled and she felt like air, like she was flying with her feet firmly planted on the ground._

 _She'd never seen such a soft-hearted and tender look before._

 _She could see every speck of green and red that danced in his eyes, hair glittering like soft gold. An achingly sweet smile softened his face until he was practically glowing. It was a look full of warm promises, beautifully open and tender and overflowing with affection that made her heart currently feel like it was battering around inside a cage._

 _There was a soft chuckle and then rustling before she heard soft footsteps. It wasn't long before he stood above her, looking down at her with a titled head and a raised eyebrow. His large hands were on his hips as he gazed intently down at her and Love found, at that moment, when their eyes met beneath the Sun with his translucent wings spread behind him like a crystal cape, that it didn't matter if her wings worked or not._

 _Because finally she knew what it felt like to fly._

 _He held out a large hand, green orbs swimming with mischief and play, his half-smirk half-smile making her belly flip and flop. She wasn't quite sure if it was the hidden, unspoken promise in his eyes or the broadly open palm that beckoned to her, but the small angel-fairy lifted her hand and slid it into his own. His fingers closed around her hand, and the rough hand that gripped her own warmed her heart as he pulled her slowly to her feet._

 _When she looked up, he looked down, and their eyes met._

 _This time was different._

 _Something had changed, something vital and important, something that would change them both forever._

 _"Corn."_

 _She didn't ask, simply squeezed his hand and replied, "Love."_

 _Corn the Fairy Prince pulled Love into his arms, spread his large shiny wings, and with a mighty flap, flew into the air. As they soared through the sky,_ _as high as Corn's wings could take them, Love never noticed when her small white wings twitched._

 _He bent his head, mouth to her ear, and promised her, "You never need to be afraid to fall. Never again."_

 _Through the rustling of the light wind, she turned in his arms to face him, looking up with a bright, elated grin resting on her lips as she breathlessly asked, "Why?"_

 _His forehead met her own as he softly promised Love what she had always wanted: "Because I will always be your wings."_

 _Her smile softened as she asked quietly, "What happens if I learn to fly on my own?"_

 _The light grin said it all but Corn spoke the words in his eyes anyway. "Then we can fly together, you and me, and we can be each other's wings. And I'll never let you fall."_

Years later, much later, there would be a story passed down in the Hizuri family, from the parents to their kids to their grandkids, about a Fairy Prince who lost his wings and his Princess who taught him how to fly again.

And even when they passed, one day apart and the whole world mourned, they would fly together, forever, into a bright, bright sky.

Corn kept his promise and Love never feared the fall again.

Together, they flew.

And with wings spread wide and hands held tight, they never fell again.


End file.
